Or, bide thou where the poppy blows With windflowers fail and fair. — William C. Bryant Copy Share Image
The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below — John McCrae Copy Share Image
Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul. — John Keats Copy Share Image
By the time writing was invented, the Greeks and Egyptians had already learned to extract opium from poppies to facilitate sleep. — Kat Duff Copy Share Image
What Tarquin the Proud said in his garden with the poppy blooms was understood by the son but not by the messenger. — Johann Georg Hamann Copy Share Image
“Across the river, fields of poppies stretched along the bank, the delicate scarlet heads dancing in the breeze, carefree and flourishing.” — Bella Forrest Copy Share Image
There's no new direction. It's not more poppy or more rocky. They're just rock'n'roll tunes. I'll never change the music I write. — Noel Gallagher Copy Share Image
Will there be poppy juice in it?" Phresine shook her head. "Good. My wife and I agreed that only my wine was… — Megan Whalen Turner Copy Share Image
Pleasures are like poppies spread: You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed. — Robert Burns Copy Share Image
And would it not be proud romance Falling in some obscure advance, To rise, a poppy field of France? — William Alexander Percy Copy Share Image
I'm so bad at lyrics. I'm always trying to get better. Sometimes, the song can restrict your lyrics - if you're trying… — Chaz Bundick Copy Share Image
She [Pansy] pushed in next to Poppy so that she could see him around the guard's elbow. She was as tall as… — Jessica Day George Copy Share Image
It's going to be really interesting to see what the heroin market does in the next two years or so. One thing… — Bruce Sterling Copy Share Image
In Europe and Australia, there is something called the Tall Poppy Syndrome: People like to cut the tall poppies. They don't want… — Mark Burnett Copy Share Image
When Tarquin the Proud was asked what was the best mode of governing a conquered city, he replied only by beating down… — Livy Copy Share Image
Hi." "Hi." I shrug, as though to say "Whatever." In my peripheral vision I can see Magnus exhale. He looks a teeny… — Sophie Kinsella Copy Share Image
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, And poppy, or charms,… — John Donne Copy Share Image
As for marigolds, poppies, hollyhocks, and valorous sunflowers, we shall never have a garden without them, both for their own sake, and… — Henry Ward Beecher Copy Share Image
I humbly thank the gods benign, For all the blessings that are mine... The morning drips her dew for me, Noon spreads… — Robert Loveman Copy Share Image
An album for me as a teenager in the '70s was a fully formed concept. It was a body of work from… — Christopher Bollen Copy Share Image
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,… — John Keats Copy Share Image
[Lennie meets Joe - he works out that she was named after John Lennon] I nod. "Mom was a hippie." This is… — Jandy Nelson Copy Share Image
But Harry . . . even if we had met and married three years ago, you’d still say it wasn’t enough time.”… — Lisa Kleypas Copy Share Image
In Flanders fields the poppies blow, Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky, The larks,… — John McCrae Copy Share Image
“People wonder why so many writers come to live in Paris. I’ve been living ten years in Paris and the answer seems… — Roman Payne Copy Share Image
The earth is rocky and full of roots; it's clay, and it seems doomed and polluted, but you dig little holes for… — Anne Lamott Copy Share Image
“Final Disposition Others divided closets full of mother's things. From the earth, I took her poppies. I wanted those fandango folds of… — Jane Glazer Copy Share Image
“Every November of my boyhood, we put on red poppies and attended highly patriotic services in remembrance of those who had 'given'… — Christopher Hitchens Copy Share Image
Not poppy, nor mandrake, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep, Which thou… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image